


Like Master, Like Pet

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Blow Jobs, Crack Fic, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Lots of Lame jokes, M/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:52:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5203133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Louis's cat apparently wants to date Harry's frog, intense studying of eyebrows is a thing, pillows can turn into flamingos, and a lot of really lame-ass jokes are made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Master, Like Pet

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii, newbie here. I've never written for this fandom before, so please don't be too harsh! (:  
> English is not my first language, and this is not beta'd, so you can probably expect some mistakes. I apologize for all of them!
> 
> This is mostly crack, sort of. 'Supposed to be funny, I think? We'll see. 
> 
> This is based on Tumblr prompt ; "hi, you don’t know me, we’re from different houses, and i’m not exactly sure how to tell you this, but i think your cat is in love with my toad??" - Thanks to whoever wrote it, I've had lots of fun with it!

"Hi."                 

Cue throat-clearing sound.

"Em… Look, you don't know me, we're from different houses, and I'm not exactly sure how to tell you this but… I think your cat is in love with my frog?"

This.

It's _this_ that finally pulls Louis out of his concentration, and makes him look up from his potion essay to the person who's been trying to get his attention for the past five minutes.

He is met with pale skin, green eyes, curly hair, and a smile full of hope. He actually pauses on the curls. And the _dimples_.

This is a lot better than Acromentula Venom and Giant Purple Toad wart.

_Hey, you._

(He has the weird impulse to see if his finger would fit in said-dimple.)

"Huh."

The half-grunt that escapes his lips by inadvertence makes the smile in front of him even bigger, probably because Louis has finally offered him some of his attention. He's a bit blinded, he won't lie. And charmed. A lot charmed, actually.

"My frog. And your cat. I think they're living something _special_."

The statement is punctuated with a hand put forward, probably laced with the hope Louis will shake it. Or something. (Something he won't do, because he's just registering the words he's been told and… _What_?) Instead, he stares at the guy – a Hufflepuff – with puzzled eyes, and lets the silence grow.

Curly Newcomer shows no sign of getting flustered.

With little to no embarrassment, he pulls the chair in front of Louis's one, and lets himself fall boisterously into it. Louis automatically brings his essay closer to his chest, as if protecting it from the unexpected lack of grace of his counterpart. A counterpart who's already leaning forward, looking very serious.

"So, what do you think we should do?"

Louis, for once, is at a loss for words. With no idea of what is actually happening.

"Your shirt is unbuttoned", he ends up saying, because, under the black and yellow tie, the shirt is indeed unbuttoned. It's better than blurting out 'you've got curly hair' instead, he supposes.

(Hey, is that a fucking _tattoo_?)

The boy seems confused. His eyes go from Louis to his torso to Louis again.

"Um…" He bites his lips, looking a bit conflicted. Then, he grins again, as if he's just found the solution to an important problem. "I'm Harry?"

Does this guy even try to make sense? Probably not. Louis raises both of his eyebrows.

"No, you're Harold", he says, because he too can play this game. He _invented_ it, okay?

Whatever game this is.

"Um, I'm practically sure my name is Harry", Harry replies, hesitant.

Louis can't help but start to smirk, despite the weirdness of the situation. He blames the fucking loveliness of this round-face. It makes being suspicious a bit hard.

"I don't know, mate, you looked like you were asking me."

"Oh." Harry's face clears up. "Well, then I'm telling you. My name is Harry. And you're Lewis, right?"

Oh dear, and he had almost managed to make Louis forget he was a Hufflepuff too. (It's a long tradition in the Slytherin House to at least pretend to despise Hufflepuffs. And Gryffindors. Ravenclaws too, he supposes. Pretty much everyone, in fact.)  What a let down. Louis tries not to scowl too much. Seventeen years of rectifying people would do that to a person. Harry's lucky he's cute.

"No, I'm _Louis_ ", he corrects.

Harry nods kindly.

"Even better! I like it. It sounds prettier. 'Suits you."

Louis's name isn't _pretty_ by any mean. It's actually quite virile, in his unbiased opinion, and rocky and rugged too. In fact, if anyone had ever dared to imply anything else, his answer would probably have been a raised middle finger. Maybe a little slap over the head, for good measures. Louis is, after all, a thorough-kind-of-guy. (Liam will tell you all about it.)

Therefore, and for the life of him, he can't bring himself to comprehend why he's actually responding with a smile of his own, eyes crinkled.

What? He likes compliments. (He really loves dimples, too.)

"So", Harry starts again, still smiling, but his eyes getting more serious. "I was thinking… maybe we should plan a little date for them by the Astronomy tower? See how it goes, and how it evolves from there? I bring my frog, you bring your cat, and—"

Louis knows he should pay attention to the whole sentence, to this whole situation in fact, but a detail is bothering him. So he raises a hand to interrupt.

"Hey, I know I'm not an expert, but aren't you confusing 'frog' with 'toad'?" Louis asks, because he's never heard about Hogwarts student having _frogs_. 

Harry seems particularly perplexed by this statement.

"A toad? Of course not. Darcy's a frog. Why would you think he was a toad?"

Well. Louis is not at all endeared by these pouty lips, so he sighs exasperatedly. (Or tries to, at least. Something tells him it doesn't end up being that convincing, but he ignores it.)

"Probably because it's— Wait." It's his turn to be confused, now. " _He_? You named your _male_ frog _Darcy_?"

No, really, who _is_ this guy?

"What of it?" replies Harry, sounding immediately challenging. It somehow makes him look like a feisty cat, which is curious because he was more of an adorable puppy, until this. It's pretty hot, actually.

Still, it seems like it's not the first time somebody's cornered him about his dubious name-choosing skills.

So Louis raises his hands in defence.

"Nothing, mate", he backtracks. "It's a very pretty name, is all."

Harry's expression of defiance melts into a beaming smile. He seems… touched, almost.

"You think so too?"

And. Well. Louis shouldn't be responding with a beam of his own. Probably.

(He shouldn't be nodding like that either. What the fuck, _head_. Have some dignity.)

To make up for this little lack of thinking, he tries to get back on tracks and come back to the main subject of this unprompted conversation. Which is… _right_. About some Darcy frog his cat supposedly wants to date.

Coming from a muggle family, he knew this whole Hogwarts thing was bound to be a bit mad. It's actually _been_ seven years of madness. (They turn pets into teapots, and have fake skies, for God's Sakes.) But this… even by magical standards, it seems to be a bit much. Whatever. Louis is not backing down – there's a cute boy in front of him, after all.

"So", he says. "What makes you think my cat is in love with your… err, Darcy?"

Harry taps his fingers quickly on the wooden desk, as if thinking seriously about this. This makes Louis feel a bit bad, because he was mostly _joking_.

Harry, apparently, is not.

"Well", he muses. "It's the sixth time he's broken into my dorm, see, and the fourth one he's slept, like, _around_ Darcy. And he _purrs_. A lot. He's even licked him once or twice, I think. I've asked my friend, Niall? Blond and Irish? And he agreed with me. Thinks that we have to do something to at least give them a chance to… y'know, make a proper connection."

A proper connection.

Right. Sounds logical.

Louis's process of thinking is actually very slow-motion-ish.

First, he realizes Harry speaks really, _really_ slowly. And it's kind of endearing, in a not-creepily entrancing way. And it shouldn't be, but. He has a really deep voice. Louis is a bit weak at the knee, because of it. Good thing he's already sat down.

Secondly, he wonders whether this Irish blond Neil guy is as mad as Harold here seems to be, or if he just knows better than to contradict his friend. (If it's the second option, well, Louis thinks there is a hint in there somewhere for him.)

Thirdly, he actually tries to understand—

"Wait a sec. Rovers's licked your _frog_?"

Harry nods eagerly, apparently not registering Louis's suddenly scandalized tone.

"See? There must be something there!" he grins.

And yes, Louis agrees. Indeed, there must be something there. He will give a thorough antibacterial mouthwash to Rovers the _second_ he gets back to his dorm. Oh Lord, what if Rovers's caught something?

"So I thought", Harry keeps going on, unperturbed, "why not provide them with a little _tête-à-tête_ , yeah? And then, we can hang around and, like, monitor things. See how it's going, and where to take it from there."

Louis is too busy trying to actively remember if Rovers has shown any signs of unusual behaviour this morning – or any signs of illness, really – to pay attention. Like, Rovers _did_ make a weird kind of throaty noise, and Louis doesn't know what it means, but _what if_ —

"I can bring blankets and some food, of course. 'Cause, you know, I've been told it can be quite cold up there, and it could take some time so… Better be prepared, right? I mean, we're doing it for the greater good, so. Yeah."

Does Mrs. Pomfresh have some kind of vet formation? Is there even such a thing as vet formation in the wizardry world? God, Louis is so misinformed, he—

Wait.

"Blankets?" he asks suddenly. " _Food?_ "

"Of course", Harry nods, still smiling. Still _dimpling_.

Thing is, Louis is not stupid. And this little animal date is actually starting to sound a lot like a _real_ date, to him. With blankets and food, apparently. Probably also a little cuddle or two, who knows? Louis is good at giving cuddles. Excels at receiving them, too. He would never spit on such an opportunity – although a bit insane, this Harry fellow is hot. As in, I've-never seen-such-a-beautiful-mix-of-handsomness-and-cuteness-in-one-person hot.

Who is he to refuse him a little playdate? After all, the guy just wants what's best for his frog, which is apparently Rovers right now.

(Louis is not above sacrificing two hours of his cat's time to obtain what he wants. Plus, Rovers's already licked the bloody thing. So, in the end, it's not a problem, is it?)

He just has to play it cool.

"Actually", Louis starts, licking his lips, "I don't think it's such a bad idea. I mean, we _should_ give them a chance, right?"

Harry beams even more, fully grinning now as he nods again.

Louis kind of wants to bite him.

"Who are we to stand in the way of true love, yeah?"

Yeah, who is Rovers to stand in the way of Louis's potential true love? The mouthwash can wait. This throaty noise he made was surely a one-time thing. Whatever.

"My thought, exactly", Louis nods brightly. "What about tomorrow night?"

"Seems perfect to me", Harry replies a bit excitedly. "I'll take care of everything, just— Just bring your cat, okay?"

No problem. None at all.

"Deal", Louis exclaims, extending his hand with what he hopes to be his most charming smile yet.

Harry shakes it with a really big and warm hand – what the _fuck_ – looking as happy as one can be. "Deal!"

"Deal", Louis repeats, because he's useless.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then", Harry nods.

He makes a move to stand up, getting on his feet with a dangerous sway of his hips. Right before leaving, though, he gives Louis a kind of mischievous look, before saying;

"Knock, knock."

Louis doesn't even know why he's surprised. He wants to face-palm and coo at the same time.

"Who's there?" he indulges, because Harry is smiling expectantly at him, and Louis is _weak._

"Purr!"

He raises an eyebrow, thinking about how he's willing to go on a non-official date with what is probably a troubled young man. A really hot one, though.

"Purr who?"

"Purr-sonally, I think it's going to be a lovely evening!"

Cue little giggle.

Louis _really_ shouldn't be laughing. Fortunately for him, Harry leaves before he can reply with one embarrassing ' _you're the lovely one_ ' or something equally cheesy. He's clearly losing his grip.

But he's got a date. Sort of.

So, in the grand scheme of things, he's quite happy with himself. Rovers too, of course. Lovely Rovers.

And he _does_ smile for the rest of the day.

(Later on, though, he'll drop his head in his hands a bit desperately, because _how_ is he supposed to explain this one to Zayn, without losing at least a bit of his dignity?)

.

.-.

.

"Let me get this straight", Zayn muses over his bacon, the next morning. His eyes are burning a tad bit too intensely as he stares at Louis. "You're planning a _date_ for your cat and some Hufflepuff's toad?"

"Darcy's a frog", Louis mumbles in his mug of tea.

He should not be feeling ashamed right now. Zayn doesn't give a single fuck.

"—And then you're going to hide nearby to watch how it's _going_? How Rovers and the toad are getting along _together_?"

Well, Harry has a way of putting it that doesn't sound as insane. (Probably because Louis overlooked that part of the deal when food was mentioned.)

And, anyway, when did Zayn become such a judgmental individual? Prick.

"It's Darcy", he corrects yet again. God is he patient. "And who are we to stand in the way of true love?" Louis quotes, wishing maybe Zayn will understand then, just like he understood when Harry said it.

His hopes aren't too high, though. At least until Zayn finally bursts out;

"Can I come with?"

"Hey, no, it's _my_ date!" he replies heatedly.

Without any thinking, _obviously_.

Zayn looks gleeful. "So here lies your true motivation. I knew it." He leans a bit forward. "He must have something special, for you to put up with something like that."

Dimples actually. He has dimples.

"Oi, I really don't like what you're implyi—"

"Hey, what's up?" Liam asks as he sits next to them, interrupting Louis's outraged retort.

Bad Liam. Louis doesn't know when he has become so rude. He gives his shoulder a slap.

Zayn's smug eyes, as for them, still won't leave his face, which is starting to become kind of annoying. "Lou's got a date", he answers, still sounding enchanted by the fact.

"No", Louis rectifies. " _Rovers_ 's got a date."

Liam sounds a bit confused. "Rovers? Your cat?"

"Yep, Louis's matching him up with some Hufflepuff's toad."

Oh, bloody hell.

"Zayn, _for the love of god,_ his name is Darcy and he's a fucking _frog_."

"Oh, that's nice", Liam comments, slurping noisily as he literally inhales his eggs. Then, he draws his eyebrows in some more confusion. "Wait – a cat and a frog? Are you sure Rovers would like that?"

"I can't believe you would go out with someone who names his male-frog _Darcy_ ", Zayn mutters under his breath.

"What of it?" replies Louis, trying to reproduce Harry's challenging tone when he'd delivered the line to him. Zayn is the one who should feel ashamed. He then turns to Liam, nodding his head with assurance. "And, well, I've been assured Rovers is proper smitten with said frog."

Liam seems to accept that quite easily.

"Oh, good for him."

Louis turns a winning smile to Zayn's direction.

"See? _He_ understands."

Zayn does not seem impressed.

"Of course I do", Liam nods, now going for his own bacon. "I had a piranha who fell in love with one of my turtles once. At least, that's what we thought – he wouldn't stop swimming in circle around her." He laughs a bit as if remembering a particularly good memory. The next second, though, he stops smiling, taking on a gloomier expression. "We only realized Toothless's true intentions when he ended up eating one of the turtle's legs", he concludes sadly. "He was not in love with Benedict, in the end. Mom was crushed."

What the _fuck_?

"You had a piranha?" Louis asks, appalled.

"And you named him Toothless?" Zayn adds, looking a bit disturbed, which is actually accounting for completely horrified.

Liam shrugs, and Louis narrows his eyes as he glares at him.

"Are you implying that Rovers only wants Darcy for his frog legs?"

Louis is genuinely offended on his cat's account. (And mortified, too. 'Cause… what if Rovers's only in it for an appetizing meal? Harry wouldn't want to date the owner of a frog-eating murderer. Oh, Lord.)

Liam seems confused. Again.

"No I— I was just saying I understood. Like, the concept of a frog with a cat. Cause of my turtle and my piranha?"

But Louis is already done. He waves a dismissing hand in Liam's face, sighing on the side.

"Shut up, Payno, you've already said too much."

Liam frowns, opens his mouth as if to retort, but then shrugs, returning to his breakfast.

Zayn is still bewildered.

"You put piranhas in the same aquarium as turtles? What kind of sick _fuck_ , Liam—"

.

.-.

.

"This is atrocious", Slughorn says as if personally offended, later in the afternoon.

Louis looks at his potion essay, essay he couldn't finish after Harry had stalked him to the library. He ended up writing only a fourth of what he was supposed to do in the end. Could he help it if he was distracted? Probably not. He's quite sure he didn't even finish the last sentence in it.

Still, atrocious is a big word. He won't stand for this.

"I think it's quite brilliant, actually."

Slughorn gives him a stern stare.

"You wrote ten lines."

Okay, so maybe he only wrote like, a ninth of the whole thing.

"I can't help it." Innocent smile. "I got a synthetic mind."

Slughorn is not charmed. Until Zayn gives him his own essay anyway, which is quite lengthy in comparison.

"Now, that's what I call true and hard work", Slughorn beams. " _Bravo_ , Mr Malik. Mr Tomlinson, you should probably take some notes."

He directs one last glare to Louis before going off to collect the work of the rest of the class.

"It wasn't that long to write", Zayn mumbles, sounding a lot smugger than he should be, in Louis's opinion.

Fucking Ravenclaw.

"Oh, piss off. At least _I_ have a date."

"I thought your cat had a date."

"Shut up."

.

.-.

.

A blond Irish guy finds Louis just before he has a chance to enter the Slytherin common room.

"Hey mate! You're Louis, right? This is for you", the guy – Neil, isn't it? Louis's got massive deduction skills – says, before cheerfully giving him a piece of rolled-up parchment.

Louis doesn't even know how you go about cheerfully giving something, but here it is. This guy nails it. Neil nails it, ah. (He's too funny for his own good. Too bad there's no one around to appreciate it.)

" _Hasta Luego_ ", Neil then adds in some sort of bizarre Spanish accent, before leaving, whistling.

Later, Louis will tell Zayn that their theory about Hufflepuffs being Disney characters may be true, in the end.

And, because he is not a patient person by definition, he almost rips the parchment open.

 

_Hiiiiii._

_This is from ~~Haro~~ Harry! We didn't really talk about the details so… If you're still up for tonight, meet me at the Astronomy Tower at 9pm after dinner, I'll be there. And don't forget to bring your cat!_

_~~I'm really~~ _ _Darcy seems really excited and happy! (Probably because he eats whatever bugs him, haha. Get it? 'Cause he eats bugs, you know. Well, mostly crickets that are also bugs I suppose, but I thought it was a good joke.)_

_See you!_

_All the love,_

_H._

Louis tries, unsuccessfully, to bite his growing grin down.

This sounds very interesting.

"I need someone to give me their most gorgeous pair of briefs right now!" he yells as soon as he makes it inside the Slytherin common room. And by gorgeous, he means sexy.

Just in case.

.

.-.

.

When Louis finally gets to the top of the Astronomy Tower at nightfall, he is… surprised, to say the least. Breathless, too, because he had to avoid a screaming/singing Peeves on his way up whilst carrying a reluctant Rovers under his robes (robes that weren't made for this, let's be honest), but mostly surprised.

Harry is already here and he is…

Well.

He's patting a small greenish frog, which is calmly sitting in front of two bowls. There is a small pinkish carpet too, and a lit candlestick. It must be enchanted, Louis is sure, because there is no way it can stay that way with the soft breeze going on around. Harry did think of everything, apparently. In the two bowls, there seems to be… yep, cat food in one, and probably frog food in the other. Louis comes closer, curious – are there really _crickets_ in this thing?

"Oh, you're here!" Harry exclaims when he sees him, and Louis smiles back, trying to keep Rovers from scratching his forearms.

The food is a good idea, Louis decides, because he had wondered how they were going to keep their pets from wandering elsewhere. Since, you know, animals don't _stay_ in one place, even if their owners want them to have a… to have a date, he supposes.

(Seriously, why is he here?)

The answer comes in the form of Harry getting closer to him with a grin. He's got a fluffy dark green scarf wrapped around his neck, his cheeks are a bit red from the cold, and his eyes are glistening in the dark. He's a very pretty sight.

And, Louis realises for the first time, he's taller than him. Like, noticeably taller. He must be some sort of a giant in fact, since Louis is definitely not on the small side. No matter what lying people who lie say.

"I'm here, and I brought a cat with me", he declares importantly to distract himself from this sudden realization, which strangely doesn't make him want to hug the Hufflepuff any less.

"Good!" Harry says. "I brought blankets and muffins."

Oh, Lord.

"But I'm allergic to muffins", Louis pouts, and Harry's smile suddenly drops.

"Oh, really?" he asks, looking both disappointed and panicked. "Shit, I should have asked— I should have— Want me to go to the kitchens and take something else? Like, um… Something you're not allergic to? Or, I don't know—"

Louis raises his hands, refraining himself from cackling.

"Wow, calm down, Harold. I was joking. Muffins are perfect."

And who could be allergic to muffins, anyway?

Harry opens his mouth, shocked, before laughing and hitting Louis in the shoulder.

"Fuck, I thought— You're mean. And I was so proud of them too, like, I baked them and… Yeah. You _better_ like them."

"I'm sure I wi— Wait, what d'you mean, you _baked them_?"

"Just was I said", Harry replies distractedly as he coos a bit at Rovers. "Hullo, you. You're a very beautiful cat, sir."

Louis takes one of Rovers's paws and waves it in Harry's face.

"Hi. I hope you brought salmon, 'cause I'm a fancy cat, and I refuse to eat anything else on Wednesdays."

(Louis is impersonating his cat. It's actually happening. He's lucky that Harry is laughing, because this is getting embarrassing. He never stooped so low before.)

"Well, tuna's close, innit? Hey, come here, so we can let them be."

It takes them approximately five minutes to put the two pets in front of their respective bowls and, once they're sure the two are settled, Harry pushes him on the other side of the room. 'To give them intimacy', he whispers to a perplexed Louis. Not far away are some blankets, and an actual basket. It smells good and Louis thinks he's just found out where the muffins are. Massive deduction skills at work again.

Harry gives one last look to their pets before sitting down, pulling on Louis's arm to bring him to do the same.

"And now we wait?" he asks.

"Now we _spy_ ", Harry replies, excitement clear in his low voice.

He's quite close to Louis's face when he says that. It's fortunate he's trying to watch the animal pair, because Louis is unable to look away from him. Now that they're close, he can finally see how the green scarf makes his eyes look somewhat even greener, and.

And it's very pretty.

Louis likes pretty things. He usually wants to touch them.

"Oh look!" Harry exclaims, nudging him, and Louis jumps a bit, dropping his hand from whatever it was going to do. (Aka poking Harry in the cheek).

Right.

Rovers and Darcy.

Since Harry told him to, he looks.

The thing is, Louis does _not_ live in denial. And yes, in spite of what he says, he's absolutely aware that if he has accepted to play in this whole charade, it's mostly to spend some time with this cute Hufflepuff who has _dimples_. (This is an important factor, Louis won't lie. This, and the eyes, and the cheekiness, and the low voice, and the curls, and— whatever.)

Thus, yeah, he doesn't really expect anything to come out of this little animal date. (A cat and a frog. _Please_.)

So it leaves him a bit speechless to witness first-hand how said-cat is literally _strutting_ in front of Harry's frog.

What the hell, Rovers.

Oblivious to Louis's internal astonishment, the black cat sits like a true king in front of his bowl, licking one of his paws while looking at Darcy, moving his tail in an entrancing way.

Louis can't believe it. His cat really is flirting with a goddamn frog.

"He's cute", Harry mumbles close to his ear, making him jump a bit again.

"He— I— Yeah, he is", Louis finishes lamely, because Harry is really close, and he probably wouldn't understand Louis's sudden dismay anyway.

"I think Darcy's interested."

Well, he bloody well should be. Rovers's a stud and, Louis hopes, doesn't flirt with just _anybody_. Darcy should feel pretty flattered, in fact.

It's only when he hears Harry snickering at his side that he realizes he just spoke out loud. Offended tone and all.

He won't blush – he's stronger than that.

"I think I need a muffin", he grumbles.

"Oh, of course! Here, there are blueberry muffins, chocolate-chocolate chunk muffins and, last but definitely not least, banana muffins!"

For some reasons, Harry seems particularly enthused by the latters. Louis takes one of the chocolate ones.

(Just in case.)

"You really baked them?" he asks, wonder clear in his voice. " _How?_ "

To Louis, culinary art is a bit like the dark arts. It's dangerous and it will only bring him shit for his efforts.

"I'm friend with some of the house elves in the kitchens. They let me come by, sometimes."

And this… is perfectly normal. The only magic being Louis has come close to befriend during his seven years at Hogwarts is a ghost in the left wing. He doesn't remember his name, but he's sure the guy considers him pal material.

"Fuck, this is really good", he compliments instead of revealing this key bit of information, after biting vigorously in the muffin.

"Thank you!" Harry beams. "I work as a baker every summer."

"Oh, you come from a muggle family too?"

"No, half-half. Dad's a muggle but mom's a witch. You?"

"Muggles. But one of my sisters, Lottie, is also here. In second year." Shit, these muffins really are the products of Dark Arts. Louis engulfs the last bite, before wiping his mouth. He's not a savage. "Hey, how come I didn't know you, anyway? I've had classes with Hufflepuffs, but I don't remember you."

This is actually a detail that's been bothering him. 'Cause he's pretty sure he would have remembered Harry. Harry has a really… remember-able face.

"Because I'm younger. 'Am in sixth year."

Louis can't contain his shock.

"No shit! And you're _taller_ _than me_?"

"I eat a lot of spinach?"

Louis gives him a suspicious stare.

"I should have known", he mumbles. "What else have you lied to me about?"

Harry responds with a mischievous look, and drops his voice to a fast whisper.

"I'm actually a death-eater, and this is all a ploy to get you to join us."

Louis fakes being shocked.

"This is a very daring kind of humor, Harold. Very controversial. As a Slytherin, I'm offended. But, do tell me, why should I accept to join the dark side?"

Harry laughs, waving his eyebrows suggestively.

"We have muffins?"

" _Shit_ , I'm in."

Harry giggles again, sounding as if goddamn singing fairies are coming out of his mouth, and Louis pats himself inwardly.

Then, they talk.

During the next hour or so, he learns that Harry's last name is Styles, he's got an older sister, and his dream is to become a botanist. He indeed has two swallows tattooed on his collarbones – "This one is Patti, and this one Selma" –, he doesn't like toads cause they scare Darcy, he thinks the sky should be purple, and he really would like to see the ocean one day. He also tells Louis, somewhat randomly, that there are more fake flamingos in the world than real ones.

This is about the time when they pull the blankets out, and Louis sits closer to an oblivious Harry than he really should. Because… because he's cold. Yeah.

Louis shares some part of himself too, of course.

He talks about how he likes the Simpsons too, and his sisters, all four of them, says that he himself would like to be a Quidditch gamekeeper, and that when he learnt he was a wizard for the first time, he jumped off his roof, thinking it meant he could fly, and broke his ankle. He explains how the ocean is really awesome, and how Harry would probably love it, and then asks why would Harry know about flamingos in the first place. ("Dunno, just like them. They're quirky birds.")

All in all, the Hufflepuff was right. It _is_ a lovely evening. (Louis wonders if it's too soon to be in love yet, so he settles for 'very strong infatuation' in his head, and shifts closer to Harry.)

A Harry who can't stop giggling.

"Why you laughing?" Louis asks at some point, after trying to see how Rovers and Darcy are doing.

He's very proud of himself, because what he actually wants to say is more along the lines of; "why you doing this cute little giggle that makes me want to smell your curls and lick your nose?"

At least it takes his mind off Rovers and Darcy who – and he checked – are cuddling calmly next to their now empty bowls. (He still can't wrap his head around that.)

"'Cause of you", Harry replies easily, nudging him a bit with his elbow. "You do this thing with your eyebrow. This cool thing. Like, I can never not raise both at once? But you do. I like it."

Louis likes when Harry likes something to be liked in him.

He raises an eyebrow. "Like this?"

"Yep!" Harry grins, trying to replicate the movement. It's particularly funny because it's a complete failure. "Fuck, I can't do it. I wish I did. It looks really cool."

Louis would blush, but he's too busy recalling himself in front of a mirror, training his eyebrows for hours on end to perfect the deed. It was actually something he stol— _picked up_ from Zayn. (Of course.) He thought it looked cool too, at the time.

Now? He's really glad he spent hours mastering it. Harry _likes_ it.

"I'll teach you someday", he says. "So you can at least attempt to be as cool as me", he adds with a teasing smirk, and Harry shakes his head.

"How generous of you."

"Generosity is my middle name."

Harry raises both eyebrows, licking his lips.

"I thought it was William? Who's lying to who, now?"

"I have several. Louis Generosity Handsomeness Brilliantness William Tomlinson. Take your pick."

Harry pokes him in the shoulder, laughing.

"Must be a hardship to write down."

Louis sighs, nodding sadly.

"It is what it is." He makes a show of letting his head dramatically fall into his hands. "Oh, the difficulties of wearing such a powerful name! You-know-fucking-who had it easy!"

It takes a few seconds for Harry to calm down from his surprised burst of laughter, and Louis watches him, feeling very proud. Until he hears a suspicious noise, at least, that makes them both turn their heads at the same time.

"Oh, look, Rovers's purring again", Harry exclaims, pointing to their two nuzzling pets.

Louis still doesn't know how to feel about that, so he nods, and pulls the very soft blanket up.

"Well, I must say, you're quite good at match-making, Harold. I'm impressed."

He's more flabbergasted, honestly, but he's got a reputation to uphold.

"Am I not?" Harry smiles, still calmly watching the two snuggling animals. He then gives Louis an appraising look. "You're not so bad either, you know. I reckon we make a good team."

Louis only brought his cat, but whatever. He'll accept the compliment.

"Yeah we do", he approves with a grin. "You seem to have a gift for finding victims. Any ideas for the next pair?"

Harry nods, biting down on his smile.

"Actually, remember my friend? Niall? He thinks your mate is fit. The one with the jawline. Maybe we should give them a little nudge in the right direction, if you know what I mean…"

Louis pretends to look affronted. (He probably looks entranced, but what can he do? The expression won't fucking go away since he met Harry.)

"First my cat, now my best friend? Are you taking all my loved ones away from me?" he asks dramatically. "Who's next on your evil list?"

Harry gives him the cheekiest smile ever.

"You, of course."

And, _oh_.

Of course.

Louis scratches the term 'infatuation' in his head. Maybe it's really love.

Since he's useless, his only reply is to beam like a fool.

He used to be so, _so_ smooth.

.

.-.

.

"I'm telling you, Zayn, Rovers's actually in love with that thing!"

Louis doesn't know why he's so distressed about that. After all, it's just more reasons to spend time with Harry. But _still_. A frog?

He didn't see that one coming, for sure.

"Really", Zayn yawns – he doesn't sound that interested in Louis's palpitating story.

"Really", Louis insists. "And like – I've thought about it, yeah?" All night long, in fact. He will not disclose that information. "What if— _What if_ Harry's fed him some kind of love potion?"

"What if?" Zayn laments, picking at his nails. He then furrows his brows. "Why would Harry even do that?" he mumbles, as if asking himself.

Well. Louis has thought about this too.

"Maybe to get close to me? You know, with how it gives us an excuse to go on non-dates to watch over our pets' dates… It makes sense, right?" He asks this last question with some kind of awe at himself in his voice. He too can be genius. Ah. Then, he sobers up, frowning a bit. "Thing is… There's a hole in that theory."

"No, really?"

"Frogs don't have any hairs!" Louis explodes, principally because this piece of information has kept him awake for a _long_ time.

Zayn finally meets his frantic gaze, and raises an eyebrow. (The, y'know, the _cool_ eyebrow. That Louis totally didn't steal from him. The one Harry likes.)

"This is an acute observation, Louis. _Frogs don't have any hairs_."

"Oh, shut up. What I mean is… how could he feed him a love potion to be attracted to Darcy, if he couldn't provide some part of Darcy? I don't understand. Like, what else is there apart from hairs?"

Zayn looks bored again, which is probably his own way of showing he's actually entertained. He's such a hard guy to read.

"You really think this is the only hole in your theory?"

Louis glares at him. He doesn't like that tone.

"I don't know", he counters, "D'you think you were born a dick?"

Zayn stares philosophically at a point above Louis's head.

"I wish I wasn't born with one, sometimes", he muses.

Tss. Fucking Zayn.

"Alright, Zaynitta, talk to me again when you're not high from potion's vapour."

"In comparison to you, I'm doing quite alright. I mean, I haven’t resorted to spying on a supposed pet date to have a date, yet."

Low blow.

"You wouldn't understand", Louis grumbles.

"Why are you so stressed about this, anyway? I thought you had a 'sick time' and you were eager to spend more with Harry."

Well. He is.

But.

There's a thing – a thing Louis doesn't really want to talk about.

Despite the awesome evening he had, and the fact he actually thinks he and Harry may be gay wizard soulmates, he really doesn't know where the Hufflepuff stands in all of this.

In spite of all of his… transparent persona, Harry is not that easy to read. Granted, he said some things that could be interpreted in an interested way. But still, when he insisted to walk Louis back to his common room – and Louis was shitting himself because, _fuck_ , we all know what that means – he ended up making no move on Louis. No attempt at a kiss – or fucking more –, just a polite 'good night, Lou'. Before leaving with Darcy under his arms, whistling. (Which is probably a Hufflepuff thing.)

And this… is very perturbing to Louis. He thought they had something going on – he definitely has, at least – but now he's not so sure.

Which is why he'd rather focus on Rovers and Darcy.

 _Their_ situation is completely clear, at least. Lucky Rovers.

"Just trying to understand" is what he replies with instead. And then he pouts.

.

.-.

.

Harry, apparently, is fond of notes.

Louis finds another one the day after, in the hands of a confused Liam.

"A blond Irish guy said 'what's the craic', laughed, and gave me this for you." He frowns, biting down on his lips, and looking up to Louis with bafflement written all over his face. "Hey, d'you think they let leprechauns attend class at Hogwarts?"

Oh, Liam-boy.

Louis forcefully tears the notes from his pondering friend, and opens it eagerly.

"Of course they do", he mumbles distractedly as he lets his eyes roam over the piece of parchment.

_Hello._

_I enjoyed yesterday very much. It was claw-some. (Ha-ha.) Not to sound presumptuous or a-croak-gant, but I'd be very pleased to see Rovers again._

_My human – Harry – and I are studying in the library later, so feel free to join us. (And to bring Rovers, of course.) Also – no pressure._

_All the love,_

_A very Hoppy Darcy._

Louis has to think about it for about five thousands of a second.

He hums a bit. Tries to play it cool.

"Hey, Leeyum… Do you know if we've been given some homework, lately?"

Liam, who's still scratching his head mumbling about leprechauns and gnomes, pauses a bit. His eyes open wide and he seems a tad bit outraged.

"If we have some homework? No shit, Lou, there is the Divination essay, the transfiguration research, the herbology—"

"Oh", Louis interrupts. "Divination it is, then. I only need one. Thanks, mate."

He then runs to his common room to grab some divination notes, and bolts down to the library.

.

.-.

.

So.

During the next four or so weeks, Louis starts to spend a lot of time with Harry _Harold_ Styles.

It happens like this most of the times: Harry sends a funny (never) charming (always) note, and Louis rushes to wherever he wants him to be – it is actually quite funny to consider that him, a Slytherin, is now at the beck and call of a bloody Hufflepuff. Although Louis loves irony, he doesn't linger on this peculiar example of it.

Whatever.

They meet over the pretence of giving Rovers and Darcy some time together, and go on study sessions, tea breaks, and Astronomy Tower evenings together. Between this and that.

Rovers is as smitten as ever.

…Louis is too.

So he thinks it's time for him to make a move.

(Since Harry bloody well won't. Prick. Curly hot prick, he means.)

(God, Louis's _so_ fucked.)

Still, he thinks he's got the perfect occasion when Harry invites him back to his dorm, since "the whole house will be busy" on some afternoon.

"Busy with what?" Louis has asked, suspicious.

"Oh, our prefects have organized a candy-eating contest and a chocolate-frog race. The winner gains even more candy. Everyone wants to see Niall do it, 'cause he gets real competitive."

What even is the Hufflepuff house?

"And you don't want to support him?"

Harry has shaken his head, smiling softly. "He will win anyway. And I'd rather spend this time with you."

So Louis has definitely _not_ blushed, and closed his mouth to contain an embarrassingly besotted smile.

.

.-.

.

Louis would pride himself in saying he's probably the first Slytherin to ever put a foot in the Hufflepuffs' Common Room, but he sadly knows it's not the case. Since inter-house interactions have become a thing, it's not that uncommon anymore to see whomever in your dorm, nowadays. (Granted, the Slytherins are the most reticent to this new development, but still.)

It's the first time he's entered a Hufflepuff dorm, though.

There's a lot of yellow everywhere, a really big stuffed badger in a corner, and the room is more of a gigantic mess than anything else. Louis definitely could see himself fit in there. (Slytherins are neat freaks that can't be bothered by Louis's desire to express himself by leaving chaos behind him in every room. They don't even deserve him.)

"So, this is my side", Harry points to a corner of the room that is surprisingly – or not so surprisingly – the only cleaned up one.

Oh, Harold.

Gay wizard soulmate, indeed. (They're so fucking complementary.)

Darcy is also here, tranquilly sitting/standing – Louis never knows – on a chair next to the bed, and Rovers doesn't hesitate one second before jumping out of his arms to join him. Of course, Louis doesn't squeal when a claw scratches his forearm, nor does he make a non-exhaustive list of threats in his head.

He's well above this.

(Fucking Rovers will be served chicken leftovers tonight, he swears. That'll teach him. After all, bros before hoes and all that.)

But let's focus on Harry.

"Cheeky", Louis replies, teasing. "So, I suppose this is where the magic happens?"

Harry nods thoughtfully.

"I guess you could say that. I've tried more transfiguration charms in here than anywhere." He lights up. "Hey, do you know that, because of this, my pillow sometimes turns into a stuffed flamingo without any warning?"

No, Louis didn't know. He frowns.

"What is it with you and bloody flamingos? And— wait. That's not what I meant. With the magic thing."

Fuck. If even Harry won't let him make innuendos, this is going to be harder than he thought.

"I know", Harry smiles impertinently before pursing his lips in a provocative way, and Louis wants to _Avada Kedavra_ himself.

Has he already talked about Harry's mouth? 'Cause he's got very pretty lips. Full, plump, pillow-like lips. Very nice colour too. They would look even more pretty around his—

"Of course you do!" Louis exclaims poutily, taking a pillow to throw it at the curly head.

Fucking curly hair that makes him have inappropriate thoughts.

Harry tries to dodge it but manages to place himself exactly in its course so it hits him right in the face. Louis cackles, immediately doing a victory dance. He then lets himself fall onto the bed next to Harry, smiling all teeth out, eyes taunting.

"Who's laughing now, eh?"

Harry retaliates by trying to throw back another pillow, but to no avail. He misses completely, looking laughingly put out, and Louis can't manage to stop chuckling.

"Damn, you'd miss an elephant in a corridor, wouldn't you?"

Harry giggles too, mumbling a quick "Shuddup" after a little gulp. He tries to find his breath again, lying on his back, and Louis turns himself into the same position next to him. In the background, Rovers has started to purr, and Louis is no longer surprised when he hears a satisfied 'croak' from Darcy.

"So, what do we do now?" he asks, turning his head to face Harry.

('Cause he would like to underline the fact that, for once, he didn't bring any homework. And he hopes very much that it's not what Harry had in mind for today.)

The Hufflepuff stares back, before swiftly raising himself to sit cross-legged on the bed as he shakes his curls away from his face. He gives Louis a strange, quick little look, a bit more serious this time, and it makes him tense up just a little bit.

"Um… Actually, I wanted to talk to you."

O-kay.

Louis picks himself up to sit too, facing Harry with the eyes of a conspirator.

"Is it the awkward scene where you try to convince me you're not a death-eater in the end? Tell me now, 'cause I've already started looking at designs for the dark mark and—"

Harry looks surprised, but also as if he's trying to contain a smile.

"No, Lou, I—"

But Louis keeps going.

"—and I must say I've become _particularly_ fond of the gothic themed one that—"

"Lou."

"You think I can get it in another spot? Like, on my shoulder? Or is there some kind of rule—"

" _Louis."_

Louis snickers.

"Sorry. So, it's not that?"

Harry seems amused as he shakes his head. "No, that's not it, no. But very daring kind of humor, right here."

Louis raises a suggestive eyebrow, licking his lips.

"Just trying to embrace your culture, love."

To which Harry rolls his eyes up, biting his grin down. The apple of his cheeks is a bit pinker than usual, and he clears his throat with a hesitant smile. He wets his lips a bit self-consciously, trying to swallow.

"No, really, I wanted to _talk_ to you."

"You did?" Louis smirks, but then he sees Harry somewhat almost furrowed brows, and he goes for a softer smile. The guy is obviously trying to be serious.

He puts his hand encouragingly on one of the boy's knees, waiting patiently as Harry nods. The Hufflepuff takes his breath, before bursting with an anticlimactic;

"Knock, knock?"

Which is… quite unexpected. Huh.

Fucker.

And here he was, cutting Louis's incredible speech off because of a joke, almost making him worry. Louis thought— Well. He doesn't know what he was thinking, but it certainly wasn't that. He frowns, a bit perplexed.

He really ought to teach Harry about jokes and timing one day.

Well, whatever.

"Who's there?"

He doesn't even know why he indulges it, sometimes. Maybe because it's cute. Maybe because he's a weak ass embarrassment. Who knows?

"De Niro", Harry replies and, strangely, he blushes again.

Louis is confused, to say the least. Is the joke that bad?

"De Niro who?"

Harry swallows again, becoming suddenly nervous as he avoids his eyes. It's starting to make Louis a bit nervy too, though he has no idea why. Harry goes for a more tentative smile, as he speaks the next sentence very fast.

"De Niro I am to you, the more I like— I like Zayn."

Louis, who was already mentally preparing a smile and light laugh because he is _polite_ , is… shocked. Utterly stunned.

His mouth drops open, and his eyes can't even blink.

Process…

Process…

' _I like Zayn_ '…

What the—

What the bloody _hell_?

"You, _what_?" Louis can't help but ask a bit aggressively. "You like _Zayn_?"

It seems completely impossible and, and yet— Shit. It's probably because of the eyebrow thing.

Harry shakes his head frantically, eyes opened wide.

"No-no-no, that's not what I meant— I, em… well he's a nice guy, though, I'm sure, very handsome—"

Handsome. Louis is handsome too, is he not?

Goddammit.

He did not see this one coming.

"But you've never even talked to him", he tries to reason, completely lost. Completely dejected. Fuck, he always knew Zayn's fucking divine looks would be his downfall one day. He then raises his head, pinning Harry with a suspicious glare. "Or have you?"

Maybe he was onto something with the love potion theory, maybe the target wasn't him but _Zayn_ , maybe—

Harry, in front of him, seems very distressed.

"No, I—Sorry, you— You don't understand, I didn't mean— I slipped up, I—"

Oh, yeah, he slipped up all right. Maybe he did not mean to break the news so harshly to Louis, seeing as Louis must have seemed so obviously interested, so…

Shit.

"You… um, you don't have to be _sorry_ ", Louis cuts off, trying to seem detached, which is a big failure after his previous tone. Maybe Harry will believe it was just because of shock. "I mean— I understand, I suppose."

He doesn't understand shit, but he's nothing but a good actor.

"No you don't—"

"Yeah I do, I swear." Fuck, fuck, fuck. Harry was supposed to be _his_ gay wizard soulmate. Not Zayn's. Zayn who, Louis would like to not pettily point out, doesn't have a pet to match Darcy with. AH. "I… suppose you want me to talk to him? Is that it?"

(Like hell he will.)

"No, I really _really_ don't—"

Bloody hell, is this how it feels like to learn you’ve been sorted into Gryffindor? As if your heart is being crushed and all hopes are leaving you at once?

Poor Liam. Louis will be more considerate with him in the future.

"No need to feel embarrassed, Haro— Harry. I get it."

And he gets that he really, _really_ wants to get the fuck out of here to go weep alone. He makes a move to get off the bed.

"So, um, maybe I'm going to go, though, cause—"

"De Niro I am to you, the more I like _YOU_ ", Harry suddenly screams, and then he drops his head in his knees, hiding his face with his arms as if to protect himself.

Cue awkward silence.

"The more you like… me?"

Amusingly, it takes even longer for Louis to understand these words. And he can't quite believe it.

"I had others", Harry mumbles from under his own arms, and Louis is too stunned to think of something to say. "Like… knock, knock?"

"Who's there?" Louis replies a bit robotically.

"Butch, Jimmy and Joe."

"Butch, Jimmy and Joe who?"

"Butch your arms around me, Jimmy a kiss, and let's Joe."

Oh, God.

Louis is almost embarrassed for him.

He also wants to beam, to jump, to _cha-cha-cha_ , but he's still not sure about the meaning of these words.

He tries to at least form a sentence.

"You— But, you— what— _Zayn_?"

Very good sentence.

(Clap, clap.)

Harry finally and very slowly puts his arms down, raising his head up to look at a very confused Louis. His cheeks have never been so red, and one of his eyes is closed, as if worried a new pillow is coming for his head.

 _I'm not gonna hit you, you stupid lovely boy_ , Louis wants to say. But he also wants to understand, so he waits.

"I panicked?" Harry eventually croaks out, finally opening his second eye. His cheeks are still crimson, though, and once the words are out, he rushes to the next part. "I mean— you had your eyebrow, you know _the_ eyebrow raised and— and it's stupid to do this with a knock knock joke, right, but I thought it was funny, but you wouldn't have laughed, well, maybe you would have 'cause you're nice, but still, and you would— you looked very very pretty and hot and I thought, fuck, what am I doing and you would have turned me down, yeah, and so I thought of the first name I could and—"

And this is about when Louis starts to laugh uncontrollably.

"Oh, my fucking goodness", he manages to get out eventually, tears of laughter coming out of his eyes. "Bloody fucking _hell._ "

Harry looks awkward in front of him, as if he doesn't know whether to join in Louis's hilarity, or go dig himself a grave. He seems like he's leaning toward the second one.

"Is that a good reaction? I can't tell." He bites his lips. "Please, don't laugh at me."

Louis really, _really_ isn't laughing at him.

"Hey, Harold."

Harry still looks scared.

"Yeah?"

"If you were a dementor, I'd break the law just to let you Jimmy a kiss."

Nobody – literally _nobody_ – would ever laugh at this joke. It's lame, terrible, everything.

Hearing it, Harry makes a sort of inhuman sound, which actually sounds a lot like a shriek, and bursts into giggles. Louis couldn't be happier.

He grins like a feral cat. (He's getting the cream all right. Or, well, will get it soon anyway.)

"So." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Does that mean you like me?" _And not Zayn?_

(Just to be clear about that.)

Harry calms down from his hype, and he stares back at Louis with a growing smile and pink cheeks, still.

"I don't know", he replies. "Does that mean you like me back?"

And because Louis used to have a filter, but he lost it about a month ago, he nods and can't help but declares;

"Like master like pet, as they say."

Lovely Rovers.

Harry plays it coy. The adorable fucker.

"Weeell." He pushes a falling curl out of his face. "I was told Darcy was quite responsive to a certain cat, so… Probably means I like you back, too. Don't have much of a choice, you know."

Louis likes the sound of it.

At least until Harry follows it up with a very unpredicted;

"So, d'you want me to suck you off?"

Louis's eyes bulge out.

Harry's do too.

" _Pardon_?"

"I mean— I, I meant— d'you want me _to take you out_? Like, on a date?" He's all flushed up again. "Ob—obviously not at school, but like in Hogsmeade, or… I'm so sorry, I— Fuck, you're making me so nervous I'm— talking shit, and—"

Oh my god.

"I cannot believe you just said that", Louis admits, cutting Harry's troubled monologue short.

Harry nods, ashamed.

"Me neither", he confesses almost sadly.

Two seconds pass.

"Well… I'm in, though", Louis eventually chirps and Harry's head snaps up in his direction.

It takes a few more seconds for him to apparently register Louis's words, and Louis knows exactly when he does because, suddenly, two dimples appear, and Harry's licking his lips. (It's sort of kind of mesmerizing.)

"You are?"

Oh, Louis's definitely getting the cream.

"I am."

"For the date?"

Louis's eyes crinkle.

"And everything else."

The following scene could be awkward, because they both know what they want to happen, but none of them is making the move for it. Until Harry finally meets his gazes with a sort of bashful smirk at last, and it spurs Louis on.

He's nothing but determined, when he wants to be.

Straightening up on the bed to put himself on all fours, he shifts closer to an expectant-looking Harry, and stops just short of his face. He feels a warm breath stroking the skin of his right cheek, and smirks, not letting go of the green eyes. Green eyes that have just become a tad bit darker.

"Any last joke?" he murmurs inches away from Harry's mouth, and can practically _feel_ the shudder that goes through the large warm body.

What a turnaround.

"I do", he whispers back, the shadow of a dimple popping out on his left cheek. He takes a quick breath. "You must be magical, because I've fallen under your spe—"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence, because Louis's mouth is suddenly on his.

And, well.

There's not an ounce of hesitation from this point onward.

Gay wizard soulmate – _definitely_.

Harry's lips are even softer than they look as they press against Louis's, but demanding too. Which is a nice surprise. Louis's right hand buries itself in the brown curls, appreciating their smoothness, and tugs at a lock to press their faces even closer. Harry makes a little sound in the back of his throat, and Louis smiles into the kiss, tugging harder.

He's straightening himself up, pressing his chest to the bigger one in front of his, feeling the deep breaths Harry's clearly trying to take through his nose. He opens his mouth wider, half-attacking, half-soothing Harry's lips with his tongue – and it's, it's quite great.

He likes it very much a lot.

Harry has a very strange technique, which turns out to be very arousing. He keeps giving little bites to Louis's bottom lip, before pressing his tongue against it, making shivers go through his body, and ending it with a nice little bit of sucking. It's quite nice, what he's doing. 'Makes Louis's toes curl.

"Change of plans", he eventually mutters against the corner of Harry's mouth, as he starts to leave small, butterfly kisses along his jaw.

Harry's breath is a bit uneven as he bites his bottom lip, eyes closing.

"Yeah?" he asks, and Louis pushes him down on the bed, careful to put his head on the pillows.

"Yeah. _I'm_ going to suck you off."

Truth is, Louis really loves to receive. But as weird as it may sound, Harry's semi-closed eyes really make him want to give right now.

He's pretty sure there's some irony in this too.

Harry offers him a cheeky smile, biting the corner of his red bottom lip.

"You are?"

Louis raises one hand to push the curls back, and drops another kiss on the Hufflepuff's mouth.

"You complaining?"

"I'm really no— Oh _, fuck_." The end of Harry's sentence dies in his throat, the last words muffled by his efforts to keep it in.

Yeah, Louis is a fast worker.

Sliding his left hand down Harry's pants unprompted, he starts to massage his cock through his briefs, watching Harry's reaction intensely. His fingers retrace the long shape, appreciating its thickness, before going up to slither inside.

Harry must be very sensitive as he gets hard, because another small, almost breathless moan is escaping his lips, and Louis is surprised when he hears himself letting a small gasp in concert, their breath mixing.

Under his hand, Harry is warm, soft, _pulsing._

His own dick is definitely rising to the challenge.

Still, Harry's pants are in the way, and it's no-no for Louis.

"Do you mind if I vanish your clothes?"

He asks it at the same time as he squeezes the Hufflepuff's cock, and Harry is definitely divided. His flushed cheeks definitely show that he doesn't care at all, but he still insists on shaking his head, confused.

"Wait—"

" _Evanesco._ "

Louis's in seven year. He may not be top notch regarding homework, but he's fucking good at wandless magic. (Drives Liam _and_ Zayn mad.) He's only half-aware that his clothes have been vanished too. This is some powerful stuff.

"Holy Hell—"

But Louis isn't listening. Because, suddenly, right below him, there's a very, very, very pretty cock. And he'd be damned if he isn't going to have a taste.

(He's been wanting one since Harry made his first knock-knock joke.)

He shuts the Hufflepuff up with a last press of his mouth against his, before slowly going down, smirking and leaving open-mouthed kisses on his chest in his trail. He doesn't know if it's his imagination, but Harry's skin seems to become hotter the lower he's kissing, and fuck if he doesn't love it.

"Shit", Harry whispers, and Louis bites the skin just under his navel.

Both of his hands are now at work, one slowly pumping the throbbing member, the other playing with the balls behind with feather fingers. He doesn't know who's harder right now, but it's a tight squeeze. Harry's definitely panting a bit now, and Louis licks his lips appreciatively as his head finally lowers to the Hufflepuff's cock's level.

And, fuck. It's not even pretty anymore. Bloody _hot_ , is what it is.

The first suck is long, hard, and _wet_ , and makes Louis hollow his cheeks.

"Fuck, _please_ ", Harry whimpers, and it's so far from the image he gave when he first presented himself that Louis literally cannot tear his eyes away from him.

Who knew, huh?

He bobs his head once, twice, thrice, and makes sure his tongue is applying pressure on the underside of Harry's cock each time. He's nothing but a perfectionist. He alternates long and slow with short and fast, and it works quite well, if Harry's hand in his hair has anything to say about it.

He feels the urge to palm himself, and to relieve some of the tension that's been accumulating in his body, but decides against it. This is for Harry.

Plus, he's now really getting into it.

"Yeah, _yeah,_ right there", Harry abruptly moans above him, and Louis smiles around the head of his cock as he licks it almost _harshly._

Take that, Hufflepuff.

He then goes for it, lips now almost raw, just to try and burry his nose in Harry's crotch, when—

 _POP_.

"What the—"

Louis's head snaps up, and he meets two very shocked eyes. Behind Harry's head, the plain white pillow has disappeared, to be replaced with a…

With a very fluffy stuffed flamingo, actually.

"Holy shit", Louis mumbles, letting Harry's cock fall from his mouth.

A surprised giggle escapes Harry's lips, and his flushed cheeks are dimpled again.

"Told you", is what he says between two panting breath.

Louis huffs and, to take revenge, he literally aspirates Harry's cock down his mouth again, really going for it this time.

" _Shit_ ", Harry moans again, and his dick is pulsating more and more between Louis's lips as he can't help but thrust into it.

It's almost obscene.

If there's one thing that Louis loves when giving head, it's the feeling he gets when he senses the other is close to coming. Harry's prick is in his mouth, and it seems to be almost vibrating. He's definitely close.

Louis puts his mind to it, and becomes more precise in his work, faster even. Harry's hand tugs at his hair almost harshly, and he doesn't control the movement of his hips anymore. Louis lets him.

He fucking loves this feeling.

"Shit, shit, _shit_ — No, wait!" Harry groans above, and suddenly, he's pulling on Louis's head so he brings him at his level.

Surprised, Louis lets it happen, and he realizes he's breathless too. He's also directly gazing into Harry's green, glowing eyes now, and he licks his swollen lips.

"What do you— _Hell_. Fuck. Okay, okay", he repeats, gasping, because Harry's _fucking_ big warm hand is wrapping itself around his cock, and even after waiting for it, he really didn't expect it to feel this fucking good.

He opens his mouth to say something, anything else that would probably end up in a moan, but he can't because Harry's lips are on his again, and they're coming with intent.

The rest is a blur of precise, clever hands, of wet and hot tongues, and of sweat being exchanged between their two bodies. Harry finishes them by stroking their cocks alongside one another, and Louis doesn't know who is the first to come.

(It may or may not be him. Still, let the record show Harry comes approximately three seconds after.)

Two minutes later find them nuzzling on a stuffed flamingo – now that Louis's mind is clear, he thinks _what the fuck_ – Harry's head buried in Louis's neck.

"Well. You definitely didn't need _Accio_ to make me come."

Harry snickers.

"Neither did I need Felix Felicis to get lucky, apparently."

Oh, my god, Louis thinks.

"Oh, my god", he says out loud, and Harry pokes him on his torso, before nuzzling his head in his neck again. "Nap time", Louis resumes. "We definitely need a nap."

"Are we gonna talk about the flamingo-pillow?"

Louis pops his lips.

"No. Now cuddle me."

Harry does. He still pipes in two seconds later;

"Hey, I just have a question. Then we nap, I promise. It's just something I've been meaning to ask you for a long time."

Louis yawns, but nods. And cuddles closer to Harry if that's even possible.

"What is it?" he asks against his curls. Pretty soft curls.

"Did you actually name you cat after a Football Club?"

Cue awkward silence.

Fucking half-muggle. Louis pinches his hip.

"I don't know Harold, are _you_ aware Darcy is a female name?"

Giggle. Giggle. Giggle.

"It's probably too soon to say that, but… You really are the portkey to my heart", Harry sighs blissfully.

"Croak", a forgotten Darcy approves in the background, followed by Rovers purring.

And, y'know, this is pretty much it.


End file.
